Soy Un Perdedor
by el spirito
Summary: A mission goes wrong and spirals out of control leaving the Losers racing to save one of their own...Rating for violence and language
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I know very little about technological things, so I apologize for any obvious mistakes.

xxxx

18 stories above the street, Jensen cut the glass window in front of him carefully, tongue poking from between his lips as he concentrated, glad for the simplicity of the compass-like tool that allowed him to cut in a perfect circle despite the dark. His head set crackled suddenly, and Clay's voice echoed in his ear.

"What's your status, Petunia?"

Jensen rolled his eyes as he eased the circle of glass out of the window.

"Just got the glass cut, _Alpha_," he answered, setting the glass next to him on the slightly swinging window-washing platform. "I still don't see why I got stuck with Petunia."

"Better than Pansy Ass," Clay responded, and Jensen groaned as he heard Cougar chuckle quietly and Aisha let out a snort.

"That was my vote," Aisha chimed in, and Jensen laughed humorlessly.

"Ha ha, you guys are hilarious." He paused for a minute and took a deep breath. "I'm going in right now, should be in the office in 45 seconds. Give or take."

"Great. Delta's got the van ready and Eagle One's got your back from the top. I'll be covering you from the bottom. In and out Petunia, let's get this done."

"Yeah, yeah, over and out Alpha."

Jensen carefully slid into the hole, landing fairly gracefully on the other side and hurrying across the room. He timed himself as he ran to the correct office, grinning when he made it in 41 seconds. He quickly went to the computer and turned it on, cracking his knuckles and adjusting his glasses.

"Bingo," he muttered as the password protected screen popped up and he hacked into it with practically no effort. He found the file he was looking for with no trouble, grinning as the passwords Aisha's informant had given them proved to work.

"Yeah, yeah, come to papa," he crowed under his breath, chuckling as he downloaded the files to his external hard drive. Two days earlier, one of Aisha's many informants had given them some information on a man who he claimed was responsible for Max's finances, and Clay had jumped on the chance to potentially figure out where Max was going for money. There was little doubt that the man was hurting following their last encounter, so it seemed logical that he would be trying to get money wherever he could.

Their plan was simple enough; break Jensen in, get the files, break Jensen out. Cougar would be covering him from the top, Clay would cover from the bottom and drive the getaway car. Pooch would get to stay home and spend some quality time with Jolene and the baby, and though Clay had only intended for the three of them to be on this mission, Aisha had insisted that she would be coming too.

Easy. Theoretically.

"Alpha, this is Eagle One. I've got incoming."

"You copy that, Petunia? You're going to want to hurry it up."

"I copy, Alpha, almost done."

"Petunia, you need to get out, now," Clay's voice barked, and Jensen winced.

"Just another second," he muttered, and he heard Clay swear under his breath.

"Petunia, get out of there or I'll shoot you myself!" Aisha yelled, and Jensen grinned, despite the stress of the situation and the sweat trickling down his forehead.

"Been there and done that, Delta," he said, laughing when he heard Aisha's indignant cry of rage.

"I apologized, _Petunia_, something I don't do very often, so unless you want me kicking your skinny little white ass, I suggest you shut your mouth and get down here!"

"Yeah yeah, I get it," he said, watching closely as the last of the files downloaded and grinning as he disconnected the hard drive and shut the computer down.

"I have the package Alpha, and I am making my way to rendezvous," he said, tucking the hard drive into his bag and heading toward the door. He stepped into the hallway and was startled to find himself nearly surrounded by guards, all with guns drawn.

"Shit!" He shouted, ducking into the nearest room and slamming the door behind him. He shoved a desk up against the door, ducking under it when bullets started flying through the door. A few seconds later, there was a thud as at least one guard threw his weight against the door. "Alpha, I'm under fire here, don't know how soon I can get to the window."

"Stay under cover, Petunia, I'm coming up to help you. Eagle One, do you have eyes on Petunia?"

"Negative, Alpha, I can't see him."

"Damn it! Petunia, what's your status?"

"Still under fire, Alpha, and it's getting kind of hot in here." Jensen swore under his breath as the wood of the desk splintered near his head, and the door thudded again as who-knew-how-many guards threw themselves against it. He knew it was only a matter of time before they either got through or found his harness and line at the window.

Clay swore passionately under his breath again, and Jensen heard the distant sound of gunfire.

"I'm gonna try to get out of here. Eagle One, I'm trying to get to the window."

"Copy that, Petunia. Be careful."

Jensen grinned at the small admonishment from Cougar, then took a deep breath. Timing his movement to coincide with the thudding against the door, Jensen heaved the desk to the side, following it so that he was in the little nook between the door and the wall as it swung inward. As he'd hoped, most of the guards were thrown off balance as the door opened suddenly, and he took the opportunity to leap over them, running into the hall with the hard drive clutched to his chest.

"I see you, Petunia," Cougar's voice crackled over the comm. as he burst into the room he had first entered.

"Thank Go-" Jensen was cut off with a grunt of pain, stumbling forward as pain erupted in his shoulder.

"Petunia! Alpha, be advised, Petunia has been hit," Cougar said, watching nervously as Jensen managed to climb to his feet and lurched towards the window, one hand clutching at his shoulder.

"Petunia, how bad is it?" Aisha asked, and Jensen grunted.

"I've had worse," he panted, praying that Cougar was covering him and that Clay was somewhere nearby. "Don't know if you heard, but I got shot in the arm by a crazy half-naked woman one time."

"Crazy half-naked smoking hot woman," Aisha answered, but there was no masking the concern in her voice. "You okay?"

"Peachy," Jensen muttered as he finally reached his destination. Painstakingly, he hooked himself into the harness and started rappelling down the side of the building. It was horribly painful and difficult to do one-handed, and Jensen felt his breathing come in harsh pants. Suddenly the line jerked and he hissed in pain.

"Eagle One, what the hell is going on?" Jensen gasped, wincing as the line started slowly and erratically pulling him back up to the window.

"They are pulling you up. I will stop them."

Despite the pain and fear he was feeling, Jensen grinned at the thought of Cougar 'stopping' his attackers. Unfortunately, it didn't work as well as he had hoped, because almost as soon as he heard the first startled yell of one of the guards, the line dropped and he nearly blacked out from the pain.

"They're cutting the cord. I cannot take all of them out fast enough to ensure your safety."

_Shit._

"Alpha, where are you? I could, uh, I could really use some help here," Jensen said, starting to feel light-headed.

"I'm running into some trouble here," Clay said. "These aren't any ordinary guards, they're definitely hired help. They've got me pinned down here."

"Well they're, uh, damn it, they're pulling me up," Jensen muttered, shaking his head in an effort to clear it. It only made the spots in his vision worse. "I'm, uh, I'm getting kinda dizzy here."

"I'm trying Petunia, I'm trying to get up there."

"Th-thanks, Alpha," Jensen stuttered, head still spinning. "I, uh…"

His voice trailed off.

"What the hell is going on up there?" Clay barked.

"He passed out," Cougar answered. "They're pulling him up."

"We've gotta get to him," Aisha said. "I'm coming up."

"No," Jensen said suddenly, his voice weak. "'s too late."

"He is nearly to the top," Cougar said.

"'M sorry-" Jensen said, and then the comm. cut out, only static audible. Clay swore loudly and Cougar let out a groan.

"Delta, come around to the front _now_. Maybe we can cut them off down here."

"Copy that Alpha, I'm coming around."

Clay managed to fire off a few more shots, then ducked back towards the entrance. He hadn't been able to get past the elevator, had been unable to even leave the lobby. His frustration and inability to help Jensen weighed heavily on his mind as he raced to the front of the building.

Aisha was in the van, the worry clear on her face.

"Alpha-"

"Damn it, we've got a problem," Cougar said suddenly. "They took him out the back door and threw him in a van. They're headed northwest. He, uh, he was unconscious."

Aisha slammed her hand against the steering wheel in frustration. Clay ran a hand through his hair and swore passionately before letting out a roar of anger. Breath heaving, he finally climbed into the van next to Aisha.

"Eagle One, meet us at the rendezvous point. We've got a van to catch."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Forgot this in the first chapter, so in case you were wondering, I don't own the Losers. Also, the title is from the song by Beck.

xxxx

Jensen woke up in a warehouse. Of course, he didn't exactly know it was a warehouse, only that it was dark and cold and that his entire body hurt like a sonofabitch. He was on his side, lying on the ground, his arms tied tightly behind his back; His shoulder was screaming in pain, and he could feel warm blood trickling down to the floor. He didn't know how long he'd been lying there, but he was pretty sure that it wasn't a good thing to still be bleeding.

With a groan, he managed to lever himself up to a semi-sitting position, slumped to one side as he breathed heavily, head swimming from the change in position. There didn't seem to be anyone around, but there were boxes and crates that could easily hide someone, plus his glasses were missing and he couldn't see too well, so Jensen figured it was highly unlikely that he was alone. And, the more he thought about it, the more he figured that he would probably end up being tortured in some manner.

Getting shot was one thing. Getting tortured- that was another.

"Hey, guys?" Jensen called out, surprised at how husky his voice sounded. "Think I could get a drink of water?"

Predictably, there was no response.

"I don't really care what kind of water, Avian, Dasani, it's all the same to me."

Jensen paused to clear his throat. Still silence.

"Hell, it could even be tap water. I've had some damn good tap water in my day. Back home, we drank water out of a well, tasted like heaven, you know? Also had some pretty shitty tap water. Bolivia? Tasted like ass. Afghanistan? Tasted like…dusty ass." _Everything tasted dusty in Afghanistan. Food, water, even the sweat that trickled down your face until it inevitably ended up in your mouth._

Damn it, still no answer, and Jensen's head was starting to pound in rhythm with his heart, and his shoulder felt like one big mass of pain and fire, and he was thirsty as hell. And his thoughts, not that they weren't always moving a mile a minute, were going so quickly that even Jensen was having a hard time keeping up with his brain.

"Come on guys," he whined, and he knew how annoying is whining could be. The last time he'd used this tone, Clay had not-so-subtly pulled his gun out and started making sure the sight was lined up. In Jensen's direction.

"I just want some water. Or some vodka. I normally don't drink a lot, at least not as much as some of my friends-" _Clay, Aisha, sloshed in the room they were sharin, while Cougar and Jensen listened outside and wondered if the noises they were hearing were fighting or…other things, trying not to laugh _"-but I could use some now. Might take an edge off of, you know, stuff." _Pain so bad that Jensen almost wished they would just cut his arm off, but then how could he keep all his mad hacking skills? _

"Maybe you don't have vodka. Juice? Chocolate milk? I love chocolate milk. Always have." _Once when he was sick, his mom had made him a huge glass of chocolate milk and let him lay in her bed and watch movies all day with it. Later, when he was sick (because malaria apparently still existed in some back part of the world that, of course, required the team's special set of skills,) Pooch had somehow procured a bottle of it for him, had handed it to him and wiped his forehead with a cool cloth and then gone and helped the other guys take down a corrupt warlord. _

It was getting bad now. He felt dizzy and sick and before he knew what was going on, Jensen was retching on the floor, unable to support himself with his hands bound behind him so that his forehead ended up resting only inches from the pile of vomit, which only lead to more puking. It didn't take long for him to empty his stomach and continue to dry heave. It took only a little longer for him to get so light-headed that he passed out completely.

xxxx

Clay was pissed off. Not that he ever seemed _not_ pissed off, per se, but when he got in one of his blacker moods, everyone knew it. He walked heavier, glared more deeply, answered more gruffly. Generally, his team took care not to piss him off. Not finding Jensen, not finding a single damn trace of him, pissed him off.

Of course, he wasn't the only one. Aisha had disappeared somewhere just after the van containing their tech geek had driven off, with no sign of her since then. Clay assumed that she was also displeased with the day's turn of events, and had perhaps gone off to find someone she could shoot without feeling guilty about it. Cougar, never one to speak much, had turned inward to the point that he wouldn't even look at Clay, just sat aimlessly on his bunk, cleaning his gun over and over again.

Clay sighed. He couldn't handle much more of being alone with the silent sniper, and Pooch needed to know what had gone down anyway, so he stood up, stretching his back and grimacing at the popping sounds that resulted.

"I'm gonna give Pooch a call," he told Cougar, wondering if the man would even respond. "He'll want to know." Cougar nodded sullenly, inspecting the scope of his rifle.

"I should have taken them out faster," he said suddenly, and Clay frowned. It wasn't like Cougar to blame himself for things; then again, it wasn't like Cougar had ever had his best friend's kidnapping to blame himself for.

"They would have cut the line, Coug. There's no way Jensen would have survived that drop. At least this way he has a chance." Clay decided not to say the other thing that came to mind, the little thought that refused to be ignored, that said that Jensen's captors would want to know who he was working for. Judging by Cougar's expression, the same thing had crossed his mind.

"Yes. A chance." They both knew that the chance wasn't very big. Cougar turned back to his rifle and Clay stepped into the bathroom, his cell phone open and Pooch's number dialed almost before he knew what was happening.

"Clay? What's going on?" Pooch sounded worried, and Clay wished the man didn't have such good instincts. Then again, he rarely called Pooch unless things had gone badly.

"We had some trouble on the last mission. Jensen's missing."

"Jensen's missing because Jensen's crazy, or Jensen's missing because Jensen's in trouble?"

"Trouble. He got captured."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

There was silence on the other end, and Clay could practically hear Pooch thinking.

"So you think…"

"I think they'll torture him."

"He won't talk. Jensen might just be a tech geek, but he's had training just like the rest of us. He won't talk."

"Pooch, all he ever does is talk."

There was another minute of silence.

"Shit. Kid's gonna get himself killed just for pissing them off."

"Pretty much."

Pooch sighed loudly. "I shoulda been there. I'm sorry."

"It wouldn't have mattered."

It was both the truth and a lie. In all honesty, Pooch probably wouldn't have been able to change anything. Then again, having another man that you could rely on was always beneficial.

"I'll be there in ten minutes. We'll find him."

Clay rubbed a hand over his eyes, took in the hotel room's gaudy wallpaper, thought again how pathetic they were to be operating out of a Motel 6.

"Okay. See you soon, Pooch."

Almost as soon as he hung up, Clay's phone rang again.

"Aisha. Where the hell are you?"

"Clay, I think I've got a way to find Jensen."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks so much for all of the reviews, guys! This chapter is pretty violent and also shows a bit of torture, so if you don't like that kind of stuff, you might not want to read it.

xxxx

As unpleasant as Jensen's first awakening was, his second was worse. It was sudden, a splash of something wet and freezing followed closely by a revival of every injury he'd acquired in the past day. It took him a minute to realize that someone had dumped water on his head and by the time he'd gotten that much figured out, he was being pulled off the ground and shoved into a chair.

And then his arms, already achy and painful, were wrenched behind his back, and Jensen couldn't stop a scream from erupting past his lips.

"Shut the hell up!" Someone barked, and Jensen bit back a groan. A light, bright and intense and shining directly at him, was turned on over his head, and he blinked rapidly and squinted beneath it. There were at least five men standing around him, and every single one of them looked pissed.

"Glad you guys decided to join the party," Jensen said with the biggest grin he could muster, and he wasn't entirely surprised when something –definitely a fist, maybe brass knuckles- smashed into his face. His nose and lip started bleeding simultaneously, and his cheekbone felt decimated.

"Not the face!" He moaned, just before another fist smashed into his eye.

"Shut up!" It was the same voice that had told him to shut up earlier, and now that the light was on, Jensen could get a good look at him. He looked like a stereotypical bruiser, bald and huge, tattoos up his heavily muscled arms and a small goatee sprouting from his face.

"What, you miss your anger management session this week?" Jensen inquired, then winced at his own inability to just keep his mouth shut. Another fist snapped his head around, and he was sure he'd felt bone crack.

"Listen to me, you little bastard," the bruiser said under his breath. "I only want to hear one thing come out of your mouth, and that's your name, and why you were breaking in to McElroy's office. Get it?"

Jensen very nearly pointed out that he had, in fact, said two things, but thought better of it and remained silent.

"I _said_, 'get it?'" The man demanded, yanking Jensen's head up by the hair and setting a distressingly large knife against his exposed throat.

"I get it," Jensen grated out, adam's apple bobbing.

"Good." The man shoved Jensen's head forward again and Jensen sucked air in through his mouth, the coppery tang of blood making him feel dangerously nauseous. His nose was already starting to swell so much that it was hard to breathe through it.

"Who are you? And who the hell are you working for?" Jensen's head was yanked back again, and he was seriously starting to get dizzy from all of the movement. He kept his mouth shut.

"I asked you a question."

Jensen remained quiet.

"You can do this the easy way or the hard way."

"Can you possibly be any more cliché?" Jensen asked finally, simply unable to keep his mouth shut any longer. The man just grinned at him and held up what appeared to be a pair of pliers.

"Hard way it is."

Jensen swallowed.

"_Shit_."

xxxx

Pooch had already arrived, and he and Cougar and Clay were sitting in an uncomfortable silence by the time Aisha showed up, backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Took you long enough," Pooch grumbled, and Aisha shot him a glare before sitting down at the small table and pulling a laptop out of her bag.

"How do you plan on finding him?" Clay asked, settling into the chair across from her. Cougar was perched half-on, half-off the table, and Pooch was pacing restlessly next to it. Aisha took a deep breath.

"You remember when Jensen went missing last year?" Clay and Cougar nodded, and Pooch raised an eyebrow.

"You mean when he went off to Comic-Con without telling anyone?" He asked.

"Yeah. Well, I didn't like that," Aisha said, sounding much more awkward than usual. A grin spread over Pooch's face.

"You mean you were worried about him, don't you? You were worried about Jensen!"

Aisha clenched her teeth and raised an eyebrow at Pooch.

"He's the best damn tech out there," she defended, "and I didn't want to have to worry about finding a new one. Okay?"

Pooch said nothing, but the smirk he shared with Cougar made it evident that they didn't believe her. Even Clay was smiling a little.

"Moving on," Aisha said firmly before pointing at the computer screen. "I didn't want him and his _highly valuable skills_ to disappear again, so I put a tracking chip on him."

There was silence for a second.

"A _tracking chip?_" Cougar repeated incredulously, and Aisha nodded. "Where did you put it?"

"On his glasses."

There was even more silence.

"I don't know whether that's creepier than hell or brilliant," Pooch said finally.

"Why the hell didn't you say anything before?" Clay demanded, and Aisha shrugged.

"It was awhile ago, and it's not like I've needed to use it since then. I wasn't sure it still worked. And, well, Jensen's the person I would normally go to to check it out, so I had to find someone else."

Clay remained quiet, and it was clear that he was brooding.

"Where does it say he is?" Cougar asked finally.

"In the business district. Looks like it's in a bunch of warehouses or something."

"And we're assuming he still has his glasses on," Clay said, and everyone else looked somber.

"Course he has them on," Pooch said. "He's blind without them."

"Yeah," Cougar said. "He has them."

It was false hope and they all knew it, but it was all they had to go on, and they weren't willing to give it up.

"Let's move out then."

xxxx

Jensen didn't have a name-rank-serial number anymore, so he made do with just talking instead. And, worried that he might inadvertently say something that was actually relevant, he decided to talk about one topic that he knew in detail and that had nothing to do with anything. Superheroes.

Specifically, the X-Men.

"Who are you?"

"Scott Summers."

"Who do you work for?"

"Xavier."

The other man, who Jensen had decided looked a lot like Juggernaut, looked slightly confused.

"Xavier?"

"Yes."

"What do you do? Why were you hacking McElroy's computer?"

"Well, my eyes shoot laser beams. That's why I normally wear glasses-"

A punch to the stomach followed by repeated blows to his ribcage cut him off completely.

"Let's try this again," Juggernaut said, and this time the pliers made another appearance. They'd only threatened him with them before, but Jensen realized that this time, he probably wasn't going to be so lucky.

"What's your name?"

"James Howlett. You can call me Wolverine."

His mouth was wrenched open, and someone held his shoulders. He grunted at the pain of his injured arm and desperately tried to shut his mouth, or to wriggle out of his captors' hold.

He didn't succeed.

He was able to see the pliers only when they were mere inches from his face, so Jensen had only a split second warning before they were in his mouth, pressure on one of his teeth, and he could only think _at least it isn't a front tooth _before a pain and blood and _agony_ wiped every other thought from his mind.

xxxx

He woke up to the splashing water again. Time had lost all meaning and he wasn't sure how long he'd been here. Hours, days, weeks? His shoulder had gone untended for however long he'd been here, and he was sure that he had an infection. Not to mention blood loss. He was shivering with cold and pain and his mouth hurt and his chest hurt and his face hurt and he wanted it to end. He didn't care about how. Bullet to the brain, knife to the throat, just _end it._

Instead, Juggernaut stood in front of him again.

"We got your hard drive," he announced. "We know who you were targeting."

And then a bleary figure stepped into the light, walking forward until he was practically nose-to-nose with him, and Jensen could finally make out a fairly handsome face with dark hair. A gloved hand came up and turned his cheek, and the man tsked lightly.

"They've done a real number on you, haven't they, Jensen?"

Jensen held his head up, chest heaving from the effort, and glared at the other man.

"Max, I presume?" He whispered, his voice scratchy and raw.

Max laughed, and it wasn't pleasant.

"Yes."

Jensen wanted to do something heroic, to make a snarky remark or to spit in Max's face, but he had no adrenaline left and he couldn't hold his head up any longer, and he ended up with his chin resting on his bloodied chest, silently fuming and silently terrified.

"Last time I dealt with you _Losers_, you left me with nothing. You _humiliated _me," Max said, tracing a finger down Jensen's arm. Jensen shuddered and tried to pull away, but was bound too tightly to move.

"And now, I'm going to do the same to you," Max whispered, getting close to Jensen's ear. "Your friends are going to come, and they are going to watch me kill you."

Jensen shuddered again, then gasped as a shot of pain lanced through his torso. He looked down in shock, saw the smoking cigarette that was still burrowing into his skin.

"Of course, I'm going to have a little fun first," Max added, and Jensen threw his head back and screamed, as long and as hard as he could.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks again for all the reviews, as always they're greatly appreciated.

xxxx

The warehouse looked just like all of the other warehouses down by the wharf; it looked old and decrepit, peeling paint and rusted tin and cobwebs and graffiti. It was surrounded by other warehouses and there was absolutely nothing to distinguish it from any other.

Except for the pair of glasses that was emitting a signal from somewhere inside it.

Clay was in front, gun drawn, with Aisha and Pooch just behind him. Cougar was perched on the roof of an adjacent building, gun aimed carefully at the dirty windows of the warehouse. Tactically, it was not a position Clay wanted to be in. They were essentially going in blind, and Cougar would only be able to provide minimal cover for them. So no, this wasn't a nice and controlled mission like the ones Clay usually ran, and it wasn't even a formerly-nice-plan-that-just-went-to-hell mission.

But it was Jensen, so none of that mattered.

Clay silently tested the door, gritting his teeth when it didn't budge. He motioned Pooch toward the door and stood next to it, waiting as Pooch expertly burst the door open with a few well-placed kicks. Clay winced at the sound, knew it was probably loud enough to inform everyone in the warehouse that they were coming, but took a step forward anyway, sweeping his gun in an arc and knowing that his team mates were doing the same.

The warehouse was largely empty, but there was a tall stack of crates in the center of the room that appeared to form a sectioned off area, and they headed directly for it. On the outside of the small area were set up chairs and a table, and there were cigarette butts and empty beer bottles scattered on the floor. Clay frowned and continued around the crates, closing his eyes for a moment as he took in what he was seeing.

There was a chair in the center of the area, dried blood dark on the floor around it. Aisha swore under her breath from behind him, and Pooch growled angrily. Clay stepped forward, gauging the amount of blood and trying to determine how severely Jensen was injured. His hands clenched into fists when he found a tooth lying in a puddle of blood, the roots grotesquely long and telling a clear story of torture.

"Clay?" Cougar said quietly, and Clay looked up. He hadn't realized that the sniper had joined them, and he mentally berated himself for exposing himself. Then again, Cougar could move more quietly than anyone else he knew.

"Yeah," he answered finally, because he wasn't really sure what else to say. There really _wasn't_ anything else to say. Cougar knelt down beside him, mindless of the blood he was sitting in, and reached out a slightly trembling hand toward the tooth. He stopped before actually touching it, shaking his head.

"We have to find him," Cougar whispered, then held out his other hand.

Jensen's glasses, cracked and twisted.

Clay closed his eyes tightly and took a deep breath.

"We will. We'll find him. We'll still find him."

They all knew that he meant it, but they also all knew that at this point, finding Jensen might mean finding a body.

xxxx

Max was definitely hands-on. Not very creative, but hands-on. Jensen had kind of been expecting for Max to direct Juggernaut in his torture, maybe throwing him new and interesting techniques, but instead, he'd done it all himself. There had been the cigarettes, and there had been further beatings, and there had been the ripping off of his fingernails and electric shocks.

And between them, the few moments of bliss between the bouts of agony, there was blackness.

After a few hours (minutes, days, weeks?) they dragged him outside and shoved him into a trunk, and he wanted to struggle, to scream and kick, but between being bound and what he assumed was weakness caused by blood loss and fever, they picked him up and he couldn't hold his own head up, and they threw him in a trunk and they drove away.

It was hot and stuffy in the trunk, and Jensen found himself growing light-headed and dizzy, alternating between feeling too hot and too cold. He wasn't stupid. He had a fever, and he had suffered severe blood loss, not to mention possible internal bleeding, and the beginning stages of shock.

Jensen wasn't stupid.

He knew he was dying.

He wished that he could say goodbye to his nieces and his sister, and to Clay and Aisha. He wanted to say goodbye to Pooch, and to Cougar. They'd find another tech geek soon enough, but he vaguely hoped that they wouldn't forget about him.

His breathing was starting to come in short, harsh pants and his vision was fading when the trunk was popped open and bright sunlight flooded into his eyes. Juggernaut jerked him out and shoved him into a building that looked like another warehouse and then shoved him into a chair. It all seemed like déjà vu to Jensen.

When he was once again bound and unable to move, Max leaned in close, once again gripped his chin and whispered something in his ear. Jensen didn't hear what he said, and blinked slowly at him through a haze. Max frowned and repeated what he said, but it sounded like he was speaking underwater and Jensen just stared at him.

"Come _on_ Jensen, you have to play along for this to work. Now _call Clay._"

Jensen stared at the cell phone that was being offered. Clay was good. Clay would help him. With shaky fingers, he dialed Clay's number and was mildly startled when Max then snatched the phone from him.

"But Clay…" He began, but he didn't know what he was saying anyway. Max was talking into the phone, gesturing wildly, and Jensen vaguely wondered what he was saying, but supposed it didn't really matter anyway.

The phone was suddenly thrust up next to his ear, and Max loudly demanded him to talk. Jensen blinked hazily until the command was repeated, and he dazedly obeyed.

"'Lo?" He croaked, surprised when Clay's voice came down the line. What was Clay doing talking to him?

"Jensen, are you okay? How bad is it?"

"Clay?" Jensen managed. He was rather proud of himself for figuring that much out, under the circumstances.

"Jensen, listen to me. You need to hang on, okay? We're coming to get you. Just hang tight."

"Clay," Jensen repeated, with certainty this time. Hot damn, but he was on fire today.

The phone was snatched away again and Max continued talking loudly, before leaning in close to Jensen's ear once more.

"Your friends are coming, Jensen. They're going to come and watch you die. What do you think about that? Poetic justice, huh?"

Jensen didn't fully understand what Max was saying, but he knew that it wasn't good and that he should probably be worried. But he was tired and he hurt, and he didn't have the strength to care anymore. He finally surrendered into the blackness that had been wavering at the edges of his vision, and slipped into the blissfulness of unconsciousness.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews, guys! Keep 'em coming…

xxxx

The mood in the motel room was somber. Pooch was tapping dejectedly at Jensen's keyboard, trying to find something, anything to indicate likely places that Jensen could have been taken. Aisha was nursing a bottle of tequila, knocking her head against the wall, a soft _thump thump _rhythm permeating the silence of the room. Clay was sitting on the couch, head in his hands as he mentally went over every scrap of information they'd gathered on the lawyer, or on Max. Cougar sat on the floor, his hat at his side, turning Jensen's cracked and broken glasses over and over in his hands.

"This is bullshit!" Pooch erupted suddenly, thrusting the laptop away from him. "How could they just disappear? No tire tracks, no trace of them on any traffic cams. Nothing in the other warehouses. What are we supposed to do? We can't give up on him, but I don't know where the hell I'm supposed to look anymore. I just don't know-damn it!"

Cougar raised an eyebrow at Pooch's outburst then turned back to the glasses before clutching them with determination. He settled his hat on his head and stood, taking in his despondent companions.

"I am going to get him," he said quietly.

"Where are you going to go?" Aisha asked, and her tone was not mocking, but concerned.

Cougar clenched his hands into fists at his side and visibly ground his teeth together before answering.

"I am not certain. But I can't just sit here and wait any longer. I have to _do _something."

"I'm coming too," Pooch said, standing and moving to Cougar's side. Cougar nodded once in acknowledgement, then turned to Clay and Aisha.

"Cougar, I don't know that we're going to be any more productive looking blindly for him, but if that's what you guys want to do, then I'm in," Clay said finally, and Aisha nodded her agreement.

The brief moment of silence that followed Clay's statement was split by the shrill ringing of his cell phone. Clay fished it out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID, frowning.

"Hello? Who the hell is this?"

Clay's frown deepened and his voice lowered to a growl as the other person continued speaking. Clay's companions had subconsciously moved in closer to their leader, watching with growing worry and apprehension as the conversation continued.

"Max, I want to talk to him. Right now, damn it. No, I don't- okay, I understand, damn it! I understood you the first time. Just let me talk to him or I have no reason to believe anything you're saying to me."

Aisha's eyes narrowed dangerously at the mention of Max's name, and the level of tension in the room rose noticeably.

"Jensen? Jensen, are you okay? How bad is it?"

Clay's face tightened and he was undeniably concerned.

"Jensen, listen to me. You need to hang on, okay? We're coming to get you. Just hang tight. Jensen? Jensen! Damn it, Max, you had better pray to whatever god you believe in that I don't get my hands on you, because you sure as hell aren't walking away this time, you understand me?"

Clay angrily snapped the phone shut and threw it across the room, letting out a brief roar of frustration and carding his fingers through his hair before collapsing onto the couch.

"Max has Jensen," he said finally, and though everyone had figured as much from what they'd heard of Clay's conversation, the news was still sobering. "He wants us-all of us- to meet him at the Eastern docks tonight."

"What does he want for Jensen?"

"Nothing."

There was a pregnant pause, one filled with anxiety and foreboding.

"So he probably wants to kill Jensen then," Aisha said quietly, and Clay nodded miserably. Cougar's hands clenched tightly at his side and Pooch kicked aimlessly at the wall.

"In front of us. He wants to kill him _in front of us_," Clay said, and his voice was lower, lethal. It made it clear that there was no way in hell that was going to happen.

No way in hell.

xxxx

They shoved Jensen out of whatever building he'd been held in and half-dragged, half-carried him outside. Jensen didn't really understand what they were doing and had deduced that they were going to leave him outside. Why, he wasn't certain, but he was starting to realize that he didn't smell very good, and maybe they'd gotten tired of his stench. Or maybe they had decided to be nice and they wanted him to get some fresh air.

In the back of his mind, Jensen recognized that neither of those explanations were really plausible, but he wasn't willing, or even able to think about the implications of that fact. So instead he focused on the one thing that he was absolutely certain of.

He didn't want to die, and his friends weren't going to just let him die without a fight.

Sure, he was annoying and talked all the time and he didn't know when to shut up and he didn't have much of a filter between brain and mouth, but his team had become like a family, and they weren't going to abandon him. They might not get there in time, but at least they would fight for him. And if they were going to fight for him, then surely he could fight for himself.

He wouldn't give up.

"Jensen, glad you could join me," Max said suddenly, and Jensen was startled to realize that he was now standing right next to the man who was responsible for the shithole that was their lives now. Well, standing might have been a stretch. He was sagging toward the ground as soon as Juggernaut let go of him, and he ended up on the ground next to Max's feet. In a small act of rebellion, he made sure to lean over Max's shoes to get as much blood and dirt on them as possible.

Max noticed and kicked him harshly in the ribs, shaking his shoe off and swearing under his breath. Jensen managed to roll over onto his back, gasping for air and cradling his chest as well as he could with his bound and injured arms.

"Your friends should be arriving any moment now," Max said, standing with his hands on his hips.

"Kill you," Jensen managed to gasp out, sounding far less intimidating than he wanted to. Max looked down at him and laughed.

"Oh, I'm sure they'll try. They'll likely be a bit –distracted- though."

Jensen tried to make sense of that but was simply too exhausted to try to decipher it.

"Ah, here they are now," Max said, bending down and yanking Jensen from the ground by his hair. Jensen gasped in pain, unable to even yell properly, and swayed dizzily.

"Ah ah, none of that, Jensen. I need you awake for this part."

Still swaying slightly and on the verge of passing out completely, Jensen waited.

xxxx

"Holy shit," Pooch said as soon as they approached the docks. Jensen looked terrible. His face was swollen practically beyond recognition and there was matted blood streaked over his entire body. His head was lolling as he tried to hold it up and his legs were buckled. Only Max's painfully tight grip on his good arm was keeping him upright.

"Stop, right there," Max ordered, and they stopped obediently. "Weapons on the ground."

They'd expected that of course, so they'd been sure to pack as much backup weaponry as possible into places less obvious.

"Clay, the last time we met, you left me rather, well, humiliated. I was not happy with that turn of events, as I'm sure you can understand. Anyway, I've decided that it's time for us to get even. And since you sent your little tech geek here to download information on me, I thought that this seems like a fitting vengeance, don't you agree?"

"You should have taken this up with me, Max," Clay grit out.

"Oh, but that's no fun, is it?" Max responded with a grin. He wrenched Jensen's hand up and casually snapped one of his fingers. The crack was audible and Jensen let out a strangled scream as Clay and his team all had to restrain themselves.

"You see, I don't like people who get on my bad side. And you, Clay, you and your little team, are _definitely _on my bad side." There was another snap as another finger was broken.

"You should have just let it go, Clay. Should have just accepted that you were beaten by someone else, should have just laid low. I wouldn't have come after you in Bolivia, you know." Another snap. "Most likely."

"But now you've gone and made me an enemy. And I am _very_ powerful."

Another snap, another, final scream and Jensen's head lolled back as he fell unconscious.

"Damn it, stop monologuing and get to the point!" Clay snapped, worry and anger threatening to cloud rational thought.

"The point, Clay, is that this is just a taste of what you can expect. You started this little war, and I'm going to end it, one of you at a time. There's nowhere you can hide now that I won't find you."

"Listen to _me_," Clay began, but he was cut off as a few things happened rather rapidly. A boat came speeding up to them and Max quickly leapt on, simultaneously shoving Jensen into the water. Juggernaut and the other bodyguards opened fire on Clay and the team, as Max sped away and Jensen sank peacefully under the water.

xxxx

"I'm going after him. Cover me!" Pooch yelled suddenly, sprinting towards the water. Clay and Cougar provided cover fire for him as Aisha ran towards the marina, leaping into a random boat. She ducked down somewhere and Clay could hear the engine starting to sputter.

"What are you doing?" Clay shouted.

"I'm going after Max!" Aisha responded, starting up the engine.

"Aisha!" Clay yelled, but it was too late as she roared after Max. Juggernaut was moving away now, and Clay doggedly followed after him. The thirst for vengeance was strong, and he vowed to himself that he was going to get that son of a bitch one way or another.

xxxx

Cougar wanted revenge. He wanted it so badly that it burned like fire in his blood, and he could hardly contain himself. Still, he was worried about Jensen, and he waited until he saw Pooch pop up with the tech geek in tow before moving to follow Clay and the men responsible for Jensen's injuries.

Maybe if he was thinking more clearly, he would have realized that he should have waited to see if his friend was actually breathing before moving on.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: This chapter's pretty violent, and deals with vengeance-driven murders, so consider yourselves warned.

xxxx

Pooch had always been protective of his teammates. He had started to see his teammates as something close to brothers, especially in the past year, and he was particularly defensive of Cougar and Jensen. Of course, Cougar hardly needed protecting most of the time (mostly because he was a scary bastard most of the time) which left Jensen to take the brunt of Pooch's protection, which had gotten worse since Pooch had become a father.

And while he whined and complained about it, pointedly glared whenever Pooch referred to him as 'kid,' Pooch suspected that Jensen kind of liked the attention, maybe didn't mind that for once in his life, there was someone looking out for him.

That protective streak was sure as hell helping Pooch now as he stubbornly ducked under the water again, refusing to give up on Jensen no matter how long it took him. A third dive and Pooch's waving hands felt something, maybe an arm or a shoulder, and he tugged at it, swimming determinedly to the surface. He popped up gasping, lungs burning from the prolonged submersion.

Jensen popped up next to him, silent and still.

"Oh, nononono," Pooch whispered, though he really shouldn't have been surprised that Jensen wasn't breathing, considering. That didn't make it any easier.

"Come on kid, hang on," Pooch muttered, towing Jensen's still, limp form back towards the docks. He hauled Jensen up onto the ground, laying him out on his back and feeling for a nonexistent pulse. He swore under his breath when he realized that Jensen's swollen and bloody hands were tied in front of him, making chest compressions impossible. He fished a knife from his pocket and quickly cut through the rope, apologizing under his breath as he nicked Jensen's swollen wrists, then laid his arms out at his sides.

Pooch looked at Jensen for a minute, taking in the dried and fresh blood, the dirt and the grime that even the water hadn't been able to wash away. Jensen wasn't wearing a shirt and Pooch could see all of his wounds in horrifying clarity. For a second, he lost all hope, realized with a sinking heart that even if he could get Jensen breathing again, the tech was still seriously injured and bordering on hypovolemic shock, and what the hell were they going to do?

The thought left as quickly as it came. Pooch wasn't letting Jensen go without a fight. He intertwined his fingers and locked his arms and started pressing rhythmically, counting in his head and praying in his head, then breathing, then pressing again and again and again.

_He's not dead, he's not dead, he's not dead…_

A bit of water finally bubbled out of his lips, but his chest remained still, and Pooch knew there was probably a lot more water in Jensen's lungs that needed to come out before the tech could breathe again. Taking a deep breath, Pooch started the cycle of compression-prayer-breath again.

When Jensen finally coughed up more water, more than seemed possible, Pooch sat back for a second and let himself sigh in relief.

Unfortunately, the relief was short-lived, as Jensen's breathing remained ragged and shallow, and his pulse was weak and irregular. Fresh blood was welling up from points all over his body, and Pooch cursed under his breath.

"Jensen? Come on kid, look at me. Jake? Can you hear me?" He slapped Jensen's cheek as he spoke, shook his friend by the shoulders, swore again when there was no response.

"Okay, I'm going back to the van, okay? I'm gonna get the first-aid kit and then we're going to wait for Clay and Cougar to get back, and then you're going to be fine. Okay? Just hang on."

Pooch carefully stripped his shirt off, tucking it over Jensen's shivering torso, then ran back to the van, shaking his head in an effort to clear his thoughts.

_He's not dying, he can't be dying, he's going to be fine. _

Maybe if he repeated it often enough, it would become true.

xxxx

It was with a sick sense of satisfaction that Clay approached his downed target. He wasn't sure which one he'd hit, but he didn't care all that much. Cougar would take care of the other. They would both get their revenge.

It was the smaller of the two henchmen, the one with greasy hair and a bad soul-patch, and he was rolling on the ground in agony as he clutched at his leg.

Clay smiled.

He stepped forward and knelt next to the man, watching him groan until the man finally looked up and noticed Clay staring at him.

"Hi there," Clay said amiably. The man stopped moving abruptly, gritting his teeth and glaring defiantly at Clay.

"Just shoot me already!" Soul-Patch yelled, wincing in pain. Clay laughed.

"That wouldn't be any fun, now would it?" Clay leant forward as he spoke, gripped the man around the throat.

"You beat my friend within an inch of his life, you son of a bitch. You think I'm just going to _shoot_ you?"

"Listen, I didn't do the beating, that was all Randall-"

Clay cut him off with a punch to the face.

"I hate beggars," he said in a low voice. "What did you do then, hold him? Did you pick him back up when he was too weak to stand? Were you the one who held _Randall's_ water bottle for him to drink from when he got tired? You pathetic piece of shit, don't you dare tell me you didn't do anything."

Soul-Patch truly looked terrified now, choking and gasping for air, his face taking on a red tone.

"No one ever, _ever_ fucks with my team and lives to repeat their mistake," Clay said finally, pressing his gun up against the man's temple.

A single gunshot rang out.

xxxx

"I am going to like seeing you die," Cougar said quietly, looking at the larger of the two henchmen. The man looked back at him, clutching his shoulder. Cougar was wrapping his own arm with his bandanna, keeping himself from wincing despite the pain it caused.

"You can try," the man spat back, and Cougar laughed, a humorless sound that bubbled up from the back of his throat.

"I will succeed," he said, tying the bandanna off. He stood and approached the man, squatting down in front of him.

"You tortured my friend," Cougar whispered, glaring at the man maliciously.

"I listened to him scream," the man answered, a cruel smile curling at his mouth.

Cougar promptly shot him in the thigh.

The man cried out but then looked back up at Cougar.

"He begged for his mother, the little bastard."

Another gunshot and his other thigh started gushing blood.

"He…cried…asked for…you to…come save him," the man said, and Cougar hesitated. "Said…Cougar wouldn't…leave him."

"He was right," Cougar said, and a final gunshot rang out.

xxxx

Their first-aid kit was well stocked, compared to most, but it was still pathetically ineffective against the myriad of Jensen's injuries.

Pooch had managed to get some painkillers down his throat, though he knew they would likely be ineffective, and was working on cleaning out the wounds that peppered Jensen's body. He tried to keep himself objective, tried not to remember that this was _Jensen_ he was cleaning up.

It wasn't Jensen's hand that he was trying not to injure further, and it wasn't Jensen's torso that was so heavily bruised, not Jensen's abdomen that was rigid and hard and probably full of blood. And it sure as hell wasn't Jensen's shoulder that was red and inflamed and that seemed to be leaking as much pus as blood.

_Holy shit._

"You're going to be okay, buddy," Pooch whispered, trying not to feel the heat radiating off his friend as he leaned Jensen's limp body against his shoulder. He wiped feebly at the oozing exit wound, closed his eyes for a second and quelled the rising panic and nausea, then pressed a piece of gauze firmly against his friend's shoulder.

"Pooch," Cougar said suddenly, and Pooch hadn't even heard the sniper come up. "Help me get him in the van."

Pooch nodded, gently tucking his hands under Jensen's armpits and around his battered torso. Cougar picked up his legs with equal care, and they walked as quickly as they could back towards the van. Clay already had it idling and they roared away from the docks as soon as everyone was in.

"The sons of bitches that did this-" Pooch started, and Cougar gave him a small nod in response. "Good," Pooch said, then turned back to washing Jensen's wounds. Cougar wordlessly started helping him, absently running one hand through Jensen's hair.

"How is he?" Clay asked suddenly, and Cougar looked up grimly.

"Drive faster," he said.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! More Jensen angst and whumpage ahead…

xxxx

Cougar was used to being in complete control of himself, of every part of his body. When he was focused on a target, waiting for the word from Clay or from Jensen or whoever, he was in control of his breathing, his hands, even his heartbeat.

He was _not_ used to being out of control, not used to having hands trembling so badly that he could barely get the motel room's key card out of his pocket. He wasn't used to his heart pounding in his ears, his breath coming in gasps as he finally got the door open and went to the table, sweeping everything off of it, pulling bleach out of a duffel bag and scrubbing it down.

And he sure as hell wasn't used to watching Pooch and Clay carry Jensen inside, the blonde geek's head hanging limply, his arms swinging from side to side.

"Easy, easy," Pooch muttered as he and Clay shifted Jensen onto the table. Cougar got the first aid kit and brought it over as Clay took a pair of scissors to Jensen's pants, revealing a few burn marks and black bruises scattered over the tech's thighs.

"We have to get this shoulder cleaned up," Pooch said, and Clay nodded in agreement as he set up a saline drip, frowning as he tried to insert an IV into Jensen's arm.

"Can hardly get a vein," he grumbled, tapping Jensen's arm and shaking his head. "He's too damn dehydrated and he's lost a lot of blood."

Cougar swallowed harshly as he heard Clay's muttering, let out a small sigh of relief when Clay finally found a place to insert the needle.

"He's burning up," Cougar said quietly, heading to the sink to wet a washcloth. He was briefly grateful that they'd gotten a suite at the motel, even as he was ashamed that they were doing such an involved patch up job in a freaking Motel 6. He headed back towards Jensen and lay the washcloth across the wounded man's forehead, hissing slightly as his own forgotten injury was jarred. Pooch looked up and narrowed his eyes.

"You're bleeding," he said in an accusing tone. Clay looked up abruptly, and Cougar saw a flash of fear in his leader's eyes.

"I'm okay," he said quickly. "Just got grazed. It's nothing."

Clay shook his head.

"Damn it," he muttered. "_Shit."_

"What? It is already bandaged," Cougar said, frowning at Clay's obvious concern.

"It's not that. Jensen's blood type is A negative. No one else shares his type, and you're the only universal donor we've got. With you injured…"

Cougar swore under his breath. Jensen needed blood, but he knew that there was no way in hell Clay was going to risk having two men down.

"What do we do, then?" Pooch asked in concern as he gently bandaged the hand that was missing the fingernails. Cougar didn't blame him for avoiding Jensen's right hand, the one with the twisted and swollen fingers. If they screwed up setting those fingers, Jensen might never regain full use of them- a horrible blow for a computer geek.

"Give me a second," Clay responded. He ran his fingers over Jensen's rib cage, wincing a few times, then shifted down to the wounded man's abdomen, pressing gently.

"Damn it. He's got at least five busted ribs, probably more. And his abdomen is tight and swollen."

Cougar swallowed heavily, running a shaky hand over his own brow.

"You okay, Coug?" Pooch asked, looking critically at him. "You look kinda pale. We don't need you passing out on us, Cougar, sit down if you need to."

"No," Cougar said, shaking his head. "No, I need to help."

He stood and re-wet the washcloth, replacing it gently on the hacker's sweaty forehead.

"I believe that his cheekbone is broken, possibly his right eye socket, and definitely his nose," he said quietly, praying that the swollen nose would explain Jensen's raspy breathing. He knew that it was more than that- probably bruised lungs and aspirated water and if they were really unlucky, ribs piercing one or both lungs.

"Shit," Clay said quietly. "Help me sit him up."

The three of them gently leaned Jensen up, his head flopping forward to rest on Pooch's shoulder, Cougar grasping his shoulders from behind. Clay swore again when he lifted the gauze from the exit wound in Jensen's back, noting the blood and pus stubbornly continuing to seep from the wound. It looked like the bullet had traveled downwards, and Cougar suddenly realized just how lucky Jensen was that his heart hadn't been pierced.

Not that he was looking too lucky right now.

"Clay," Pooch said worriedly. "His breathing's getting pretty bad."

Pretty bad. Pooch was definitely good at understating things. Jensen's breathing was getting raspy and harsh, and a sickeningly wet gurgle seemed to punctuate every breath.

"I don't think we can handle all of this," Cougar said, his stomach sinking as he said it.

"Damn it," Clay said. "Give me a minute and I'll see if I can do something about that."

He stepped out of the room, leaving Cougar and Pooch to deal with Jensen's myriad of injuries.

"I'm going to clean out the front of his wound," Pooch said, looking squarely at Cougar. "Why don't you sit behind him and lean him against your chest?"

Cougar nodded, slipping quietly onto the table, stretching his arms around Jensen's waist. He suspected that Pooch was just trying to get him off his feet, but he frankly didn't care so long as he was helping his friend. Pooch was flushing the wound with a saline solution, but he sighed and shook his head after a few minutes.

"There's a lot of shit in there," he said quietly, making eye contact with Cougar. He pulled a pair of tweezers out of the first aid kit and approached carefully. "This is gonna hurt like a bitch."

Cougar knew what was going unsaid. He would have to hold Jensen down, if it came to that.

Pooch leant over, probing the wound as gently as possible. At first, Jensen showed no reaction, but as Pooch continued, the hacker started to shift and let out a small moan.

"Ssh, it is okay, amigo," Cougar whispered, wiping Jensen's face.

"Nngh," Jensen moaned, tossing his head from side to side. Cougar grimaced as he felt warm blood from Jensen's head wound smear across his shirt.

"Jensen, you are safe," Cougar said, and Pooch threw him an apologetic look before continuing. Jensen let out a scream and thrashed weakly.

"Stop! Please, stop! I won't tell you, I won't tell you, please, just _stop_!"

Pooch froze, bloody tweezers extended, and Cougar squeezed his eyes shut for a second before wrapping an arm tightly around Jensen's chest and running the other hand through the hacker's bloody, matted hair. He started whispering in Spanish, stroking Jensen's hair and his shoulder, soothing him as well as he could. Jensen stopped moving, falling back limply, his breathing even worse than before.

"Cougar?" He whispered, trying to see through swollen eyes, and Cougar nodded.

"Si. I am here."

"Told them," Jensen sighed, his eyelids flickering shut again. "Told them you'd come."

"Hey, come on kid, stay awake," Pooch said, relieved that the hacker had finally regained consciousness even while he cursed that it would be during such a painful but necessary procedure.

"Pooch," Jensen managed with a lopsided smile. "Thanks."

He fell limp again, and Pooch bit his lip.

"His temperature is rising," Cougar said worriedly.

"I know. And his pulse is weak and thready. We have to get his blood volume up and pump some antibiotics into him, fast, or we're going to be too late."

Pooch continued cleaning the wound out before sighing and grabbing a tube of disinfecting cream. He smeared it over the bullet hole, looking up at Cougar.

"This isn't going to be enough."

"I know."

Pooch pressed a pad of gauze down and bandaged it before turning to Cougar again. Cougar nodded and shifted to Jensen's front, letting the tech geek's head rest against his shoulder.

The exit wound looked far worse than the entry, and Cougar suspected that Jensen had been on his back more often than he had been on his stomach, leaving more time for it to get badly infected.

"Holy shit," Pooch said quietly, looking at the red and swollen wound, the pus trickling out, the red lines extending out from it.

Cougar's hands started trembling again, and he willed himself to calm down.

"Okay. Okay. Umm, shit, okay," Pooch said, and Cougar noticed that his hands were not the only ones trembling. Pooch hesitantly put his hands on both sides of the wound and pressed, sending more pus cascading out.

Jensen let out a piercing scream, his back arching and his face screwed up in pain.

"Jensen, Jensen, you've got to breathe," Cougar said worriedly as Jensen's face turned red. "Hey, take a breath. Jensen!"

Jensen was beyond his reach though, his entire body tense. Cougar finally pulled a hand back and slapped his friend across the face. Jensen gasped abruptly, sinking away from Cougar.

"Coug?" He whispered brokenly. "I don't…holy shit…Coug…"

Jensen's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed limply once more.

"I'm, I'm gonna be sick," Cougar muttered, stumbling off the table and towards the bathroom. Pooch looked after him in concern, holding Jensen up and stroking the younger man's back as Cougar retched into the toilet. Clay burst through the door abruptly, frowning.

"What the hell's going on?" He demanded, and Cougar could hear Pooch explaining in a low tone.

"Cougar? You okay?"

Cougar nodded, wiping a mixture of saliva and vomit from his mouth.

"Good. I've got someone coming to help, but we still need you right now. You think you're up for it?"

Cougar nodded again, standing shakily. Clay put out a steadying hand and helped guide Cougar to the table.

"I'm fine," Cougar said once he got there, shrugging Clay's hand off. He held Jensen again, feeling the heat rising from the hacker's body.

"He's likely going to scream again," Pooch said quietly. "I wasn't able to finish."

"Okay," Cougar said, nodding his head resolutely. "I can handle it."

This time, Jensen only groaned weakly, no longer strong enough to scream. His chest was heaving with pain and exhaustion, and by the time Pooch had finished, his breathing had been reduced to shallow pants. Pooch finished up, bandaging Jensen's shoulder and standing back, wiping a hand across his forehead.

"Let's get him on the couch," Clay said. He and Pooch gently picked him up and laid him on the couch on his side, using pillows to prop him up.

"You go sit down next to him," Clay ordered. He held up a hand when Cougar started to argue. "I want you to keep an eye on him. Watch his breathing."

"Okay," Cougar said, sitting down and settling Jensen's head into his lap. He allowed his own head to rest against the back of the couch, watching through bleary eyes as Clay and Pooch cleaned up the table where they'd operated so crudely.

"Here you go," Pooch said, handing Cougar a bottle of water as he knelt down next to him and checked his wound. "Not too deep."

"Told you," Cougar answered, wincing only slightly as Pooch re-bandaged the wound.

Jensen shifted weakly, peering vaguely up at Cougar.

"N-no," he muttered quietly, his voice cracking. He shrunk away from the sniper, shaking his head weakly. "No."

Cougar looked down, stricken.

"I, uh, I need to go, uh," Cougar stuttered, gently lowering Jensen's head onto the couch. "I just need to go."

"Coug," Pooch said, but the sniper continued towards the door without looking back. Pooch shook his head sadly and took Cougar's place on the couch, looking worriedly after his friend.

"Hang on, Jensen," he whispered. "Just hang on. You gotta hang on for Coug. He needs you, kid. Hang on."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Okay, so I'm super nervous about this chapter, and sorry if it sucks!

xxxx

It wasn't like Clay had never lost men before. It was inevitable when you spent the majority of your time in dangerous situations. But this team was different-always had been. This team played Blindman's Bluff for weapons and snuck into hospitals for new babies and went to niece's soccer games and had barbeques in the park between missions.

In short, they'd become a family, and especially since Roque (that sonuvabitch), his team had become even more important to him. They were all he had now- a strange family to be sure, wise-cracking and explosive and lethal- but a family.

And now it was in danger of coming apart.

Clay had analyzed his team many, many times before, figured out where they were inefficient and where they needed improvement, had evaluated performances, given accolades or criticisms. He'd never really had to analyze it like _this_ before, had never looked at his team in terms of who-went-where _emotionally_ and not conclusion he came to was unexpected.

Jensen, the loud-mouthed, awkward tech geek, was the glue that kept his team together.

The hacker brought out the protective side of Pooch, gave the man something to worry about and care about other than the wife and baby he left at home. Jensen didn't allow Cougar to be completely withdrawn, refused to let the sniper fold in on himself and ignore everyone else as he was so prone to do. He quietly teased Aisha, helped smooth out her biting edges and make her almost enjoyable.

And the more Clay thought about it, the more he realized that since Roque (that sonuvabitch), Jensen had quietly been helping him move on. Jensen had accompanied Clay to stake outs without being asked, sat in Clay's yellow car and stayed mostly quiet, capping his usually unfiltered mouth for Clay's sake. He'd gently nudged Clay out of his depression, poking fun at him, ordering his favorite food and making sure he ate it, sometimes intentionally annoying him just to get a reaction. He'd even rigged up a dart board with Max's face on it that swung on the motel door, and that was used so often that a replacement picture would soon be necessary.

Yes, it was Jensen who kept them together. That became all the more apparent when Jensen was so badly injured. He'd been injured before, but that was before this whole team-is-family thing, and this was the most severely wounded any of them had been.

Cougar was still sitting outside, still clutching Jensen's shattered glasses. Clay felt a pang of worry for the quiet sniper, and he knew that if Jensen didn't make it, Cougar likely wouldn't either, would just fade away until he simply disappeared. Pooch was sitting in a chair at the table where he could see the tech, but his head kept dropping as he fought the sleep that was threatening.

"Sleep," Clay said, putting a hand on Pooch's shoulder. Pooch nodded and turned, burying his head in his arms on the table that still smelled of bleach. Clay walked to the couch and stood inspecting Jensen for a minute, taking in his pallor and his labored breathing and the bandages that were showing the slightest red stains already. The saline bag that was dripping into his arm was nearly out, so Clay switched it out with ease before sitting down on the floor next to Jensen's head.

"Hey kid," he whispered, wiping the damp washcloth over the hacker's forehead, wincing at the damp inhales and the rattling exhales. "Help's coming, Jensen. Just keep breathing."

Jensen shifted slightly, a grimace of pain on his face. He erupted suddenly in a harsh, wet cough that had Clay hurrying to sit him up to ease his breathing while Pooch woke abruptly and came to help. The coughing continued until Jensen's pale face was flushed, and by the time it ended, blood and saliva were stringing from his lips. He peered up at Clay and Pooch with hazy, glassy eyes, his face creased with pain as he struggled to breathe.

"Jensen, deep breaths," Clay murmured even as he eased himself onto the couch and behind the struggling hacker, rubbing at Jensen's back.

"Shit, Clay," Pooch whispered as he gently wiped the blood from Jensen's colorless lips, worry making his voice tremble.

"Breathe with me, Jensen, come on," Clay said, settling Jensen against him and breathing deeply. He looked up and made eye contact with Pooch as Jensen struggled to breathe and felt his own worry mirrored in Pooch's face. Jensen shuddered and trembled in front of him, breathing in harsh gasps and soft whimpers.

"When the hell is your help coming, Clay?" Pooch whispered

"Anytime," Clay answered, wondering for the thousandth time if he was making the right call here.

"Anytime needs to be soon," Pooch said quietly, ruffling Jensen's hair. "Come on, kid." Jensen blinked once, then fell unconscious again, head lolling backward and limbs pliant and limp.

"Damn it," Clay muttered. "Okay, we're-"

He was interrupted by the door slamming open. Aisha came in, her arms full, followed by Cougar who was burdened in a similar fashion.

"Aisha?" Clay said questioningly.

"Didn't get the bastard," she responded tersely. "But I got other stuff."

She started to unload the various bags and boxes she had carried in, setting them out on the table before pausing and turning towards Clay.

"Clay. How is he?" She asked quietly, her head down in an attempt to hide the surprisingly strong emotions that Clay could see swirling beneath her tough exterior.

"Not too good," he answered in an equally hushed tone, and Aisha nodded shortly.

"Hopefully some of this will help," she said, gesturing toward the various machines and supplies she'd brought. Clay stood and approached the table, critically eyeing the array of medical provisions.

There were IV bags and tubing, oxygen masks, gauze and bandages and other things- some of which Clay couldn't even identify.

"Do you even know what this is?" Clay asked, holding up a long length of tube attached to a bag of some sort even as he gathered supplies with his other hand.

Aisha shrugged. "No, but it looks…useful," she answered, and Clay snorted.

"Did you just knock off an ambulance?" He asked, heading back towards Jensen with his arms full.

"Maybe," Aisha responded, following behind Clay.

Clay squatted next to Jensen and motioned to Pooch, who helped sit the hacker upright. Clay slipped an oxygen mask over the tech's face as Aisha turned on the oxygen tank. Jensen's breathing eased up slightly, but not enough to satisfy Clay or Pooch.

"Clay?" Cougar said quietly, coming up next to the team leader. Clay looked up at the sniper, noting the pain and exhaustion evident in his face.

"He's…he's not too good," Clay said. It wasn't a good enough answer, wasn't what any of them wanted to hear, but it was the truth. Cougar bowed his head and nodded, trembling fingers coming up to play idly with his hat.

"Why don't you sit down?" Aisha said suddenly, her tone far more gentle than usual. She helped guide the shake sniper to a chair, passing him a Gatorade. "Get your electrolytes up," she ordered. Cougar obediently sipped at the drink, refusing to take his eyes off of Jensen.

The tech geek was starting to slip away from them.

He was pale aside from the scarlet spots on his cheeks that spoke of the fever raging through his body. He was sweaty and clammy and every breath spoke of probable pneumonia. Shock was settling in, stealing his color and his strength, and Jensen seemed to be wilting before their eyes.

A knock on the door startled everyone.

Aisha approached it quietly, gun drawn and ready. She peered suspiciously through the peephole, then turned to Clay, clearly confused.

"There's some chick out there," she said. "She's got a first-aid kit on her."

"She's our help," Clay answered "Let her in."

Aisha threw him another glance, this one suspicious, and opened the door.

"Hi," the woman said, glancing tentatively around the room. "Clay."

"Diane," Clay responded. "Thanks for coming."

"Of course," Diane said, striding forward to Jensen's side. She started quickly unloading things from her kit.

"Sorry to interrupt, but who the hell are you?" Aisha said, and Clay shook his head at her bluntness.

"This is Diane. She and I…We had a thing going for awhile," he said, and Aisha shook her head. "She's a trauma surgeon. If anyone can help Jensen, it's her." He quickly introduced her to the team, noting without surprise how skeptical they seemed of her.

"Do you think this is smart, Clay? I mean, can we trust her?" Pooch asked, watching suspiciously as Diane pulled out a stethoscope.

"I've worked with the FBI before," Diane said as she listened to Jensen's chest. "I know how to keep quiet."

Aisha smirked at Clay and Pooch raised an eyebrow.

"You've worked with the FBI before?" Pooch repeated, and Diane nodded.

"Yep. Hell, I've patched Clay up before and I never told a soul."

"Clay who works for the FBI," Aisha clarified.

"Yeah," Diane said, and Clay was glad she was focused on Jensen or she might have gotten suspicious about this particular line of questioning.

"And you didn't think you should talk to us about this first?" Pooch asked.

"I made a decision," Clay said. "An informed one. I know you don't know her, but I trust her-"

"Diane?" Cougar asked suddenly, watching closely as Diane moved the stethoscope from front to back to front again. The woman frowned.

"His lungs sound like shit," she answered tersely. "He's got decreased breath sounds in both of them, and I bet the left one collapses before too long. His heart's straining pretty badly too, and it's a bit erratic."

She pulled a blood pressure cuff out of her bag and wrapped it around Jensen's (relatively) good arm, frowning again.

"His BP is dangerously low. We've got to get some blood in him, _now._"

"Yeah, about that," Pooch started, but Diane waved him away.

"I brought some O negative blood with me. It's in my car." She held the keys out to Aisha, who made no move to take them and just looked at her with disdain. Cougar glared at Aisha and took the keys, heading out to get it.

"Listen, I don't know who you are or what your problem with me is, but if you want your friend to live, you're going to have to help me. He's bad off, we have limited supplies, and even more limited people. So get your head out of your ass and help me."

Pooch looked like he was trying to hold in a smirk, but Clay didn't bother covering up his chuckle. Aisha shot him a look.

"I see what they mean," Aisha snapped. "You date crazy bitches."

Diane looked up for a second at Aisha, then turned back to Jensen.

"Looks like Clay's taste hasn't changed," she said, and Aisha glared at her, finger twitching over the trigger of her gun.

"Aisha," Clay said in a warning tone. Aisha's finger relaxed.

"Shit!" Diane swore suddenly, as she and Pooch lifted Jensen up and yanked away the oxygen mask, and Jensen started retching thick, red blood. He was gasping for air and wheezing by the time the coughing started, and the oxygen mask was no longer helping. His lips started turning blue.

"Aisha, I need a scalpel from my kit, Pooch, Clay, we gotta get him up on that table."

Cougar burst into the room, cooler in hand, taking the scene in with wide eyes before hurrying forward to help.

"Okay, I'm going to put a chest tube in, and it's gonna hurt like hell. Pooch, Cougar, you hold him down. Clay, get some of that blood started in an IV."

Aisha handed her the scalpel and Diane quickly made a cut between two of Jensen's ribs. The hacker moaned weakly, but didn't react otherwise. When Diane stuck her fingers between his ribs, widening the hole, and then shoved a tube in, Jensen thrashed out, trying to arch off the table, a strangled scream coming from his lips.

"Hey, it's okay," Aisha said, settling the oxygen mask back over his face.

"What now?" Clay asked quietly, and Diane stood for a moment, clearly thinking hard.

"I run a clinic. It closes at night, but it should have what we need, and we can sneak in without being seen since no one will be there."

"What we need?" Cougar asked quietly. Diane took a deep breath.

"He's bleeding internally. He's on the verge of refractory shock, which is irreversible. We have to get more blood into him without him losing it all into his abdomen. His temperature is dangerously high; we don't get it down and we're looking at seizures and irreversible brain damage. So yeah, we're going to need some stuff that we don't have here. I'm going to have to go in and operate on his abdomen, and I can't do that on a table in a motel room."

A heavy silence fell over the room.

"Holy shit," Pooch said finally. "I guess we'd better get him to your clinic."

Clay nodded.

"Okay, let's get this done," he said, watching as his team quickly and efficiently gathered up the medical supplies and started gently carrying Jensen out to the van.

"Don't think this is over," Aisha whispered into his ear. "I don't trust her, and I don't trust you enough to make decisions like that without talking to us."

She walked away with an expression of disgust, and Clay watched her go with a sigh.

Jensen was the glue of his team, alright.

Clay just hoped that calling Diane wouldn't prove to be the unraveling of it.

xxxx

A/N (again): Okay, so don't worry, I don't plan on making Diane a love interest for Clay, but I do like the tension that another woman might add to the team (meaning with Aisha) and I wanted to maybe explore some of Clay's past romantic endeavors…while still getting help for Jensen, of course.


	9. Chapter 9

Aisha had found herself in all kinds of sticky situations before and since she'd joined the Losers. She'd been chased by the police, kidnapped by thugs, and trapped in a bathtub by a roomful of angry men with guns. She'd never been in a situation like this though, her hands _inside_ of a man she'd grown close to (despite her best efforts,) trying to keep him from bleeding to death in a cold clinic.

Holy shit.

They'd burst into the clinic through the back door, grateful that there had been an entrance that was relatively sheltered from view, following Diane's directions and gently laying Jensen's limp form on an operating table. Cougar and Pooch had been dispatched to get more blood from a refrigerator in a back room and Aisha stayed with Jensen while Clay and Diane went to find an ultrasound machine.

Comforting a man delirious with pain, in shock, and struggling for breath was not one of Aisha's strong points. Jensen had regained consciousness on the ride over, nearly hyperventilating in pain and confusion, and had started rambling weakly, somehow managing to speak as much as he normally did.

"It hurts," Jensen had gasped weakly, clutching feebly at Aisha's hand. "Haven't… hurt this much…ever, really…thought that getting…shot was bad, or…or the time Cougar…gave me a…con-concussion."

"Cougar gave you a concussion?" Aisha had asked, raising an eyebrow. She stroked lightly at Jensen's cool hand, hoping it would offer some sort of comfort.

"Didn't mean to," Jensen whispered. "I was new. Didn't know…he was so…twitchy." Jensen laughed painfully before barking up blood, gasping for air that wasn't coming.

"Calm down, Jensen, come on," Aisha soothed, before yelling abruptly for Clay and Diane.

They'd come hurrying back, wheeling the machine with them, and then things had moved rather quickly.

Diane had found the bleed, a big one in Jensen's liver, and gave Cougar a quick rundown on how to monitor anesthesia levels. Pooch was told to monitor vitals and make sure there was enough blood on hand for the surgery, and Clay, who had had the most experience with such things, would be assisting Diane. Aisha would be helping with the surgery itself as well, performing those tasks simple enough for her to do without any experiences.

Which led her to here, elbow deep in Jensen's insides, as Clay and Diane scrambled to repair the damage and Pooch worriedly told them about falling vital signs.

"Come on, come on," Diane muttered, gloved and bloodied hands working steadily, if slightly frantically. "I need more suction!"

Clay obliged quickly, suctioning out the blood that was pouring stubbornly into Jensen's abdominal cavity. Pooch was hanging another bag already, and Aisha could feel her hands starting to tremble. Jensen was dying. Why the hell did that bother her so much? It wasn't like she cared, right? It wasn't like-

"Aisha!" Diane barked suddenly, and Aisha realized she must have been yelling for quite a bit.

"Yeah, sorry," she said quickly, and Diane gave her a look half-frustration and half-pity. Aisha bristled.

"Hold this. Whatever you do, don't let go of it, you understand?"

Aisha nodded numbly, taking the clamp from Diane.

"What is this?" She asked quietly.

Clay answered without looking up from where he was working.

"That's a clamp that's holding the artery feeding blood to Jensen's liver," he said, his voice low and weary. "You're stopping him from bleeding out."

"That's good right?" Aisha said, trying to keep her hand from trembling.

"Except that if we don't get the artery fixed quickly enough, we kill his liver."

"Shit," Aisha muttered, taking a deep breath in an effort to ground herself.

"Yeah," Diane agreed.

"His blood pressure is dropping again," Pooch said worriedly, and Diane swore under her breath.

"Okay, do you know how to piggyback an IV line?" She asked.

"Yeah," Pooch answered. "It's been awhile though."

"Doesn't matter," Diane snapped. "You need to piggyback another bag of saline on his IV, and start another bag of blood on his other hand."

"Okay, can do," Pooch said, moving quickly to follow Diane's directives.

"Aisha," Diane said a few minutes, or hours, later. "I want you to remove the clamp now."

Aisha hesitated, her hands shaking lightly.

"Aisha," Clay said. She didn't look up at him, staring into the gaping hole in Jensen's body, at the blood and the organs and her gloved hand, covered in red smears…

"You said not to let go," she whispered. "You said no matter what, don't let go."

Clay's hand suddenly covered hers.

"I know, Aisha," he said, his voice calm and soothing. "I know. But you need to let go. It's fixed now, and then we're going to stitch him up, and then he's going to be fine. Okay? You need to let go."

Aisha hesitated a moment longer before slowly releasing the clamp. She moved her hands up slowly, holding the clamp in one bloody grip. The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to make the room feel like it was slowly filling up with water, drowning everyone inside.

The artery held.

"Gracias a dios," Cougar muttered, and there seemed to be a collective sigh of relief.

"Okay, let's get this kid sewed up and into recovery," Diane said. Aisha murmured a prayer under her breath, stripping off her red-stained gloves and sliding to the floor in exhaustion and relief as Clay and Diane finished up. Jensen was going to be okay. He was going to be up and running in no time, shooting his mouth off and flirting awkwardly and hacking files and-

An alarm coupled with curses and muffled sounds of panic stopped her train of thought.

"What's going on?" Aisha gasped, pushing herself to her feet. Clay was performing chest compressions on Jensen's too-still chest and Cougar was pale and shaking and crying and Pooch was handing Diane fucking _defibrillators_ and Jensen was dying, dead, gone-

"Aisha! I need you to get atropine, you hear me? There are pre-loaded syringes in the top drawer of the far left cabinet, and you need to get it right now. Now, Aisha!" Diane yelled, and Aisha scrambled to do as she was ordered, immensely grateful that she was occupied and unable to see what was going on, wishing she couldn't hear as there was a whine and a thud but no steadying beeps of a heartbeat.

"Jensen!" Clay roared. "Don't give up, damn it!"

He was still performing compressions, stubbornly pounding at Jensen's still heart. Pooch's head was in his hands, his shoulders shaking, and Cougar was wide-eyed and crying, staring brokenly at Jensen as he rhythmically squeezed at the bag covering Jensen's mouth and nose.

"Here," Aisha said, thrusting the syringe at Diane, biting her lip until it bled as she waited to see if Jensen would respond.

"Keep doing the CPR," Diane commanded as she pressed the contents of the syringe into Jensen's IV line. "Let this circulate and then we'll try the paddles again."

Clay continued, elbows locked, sweat dripping down his face, muttering curses and pleas simultaneously.

"Okay, I'm going to hit him again," Diane said.

A stillness settled over the room, more intense even then the first, the blaring alarm fading away and the voices stopping and everything was quiet, even the charging of the defibrillator-

And then a rhythmic beep, hesitant at first but growing steadier, shattered it.

"Holy shit!" Pooch crowed. Cougar dropped to his knees, his head falling forward onto his chest as his shoulders quaked.

"You ever do that to me again, kid, and I will kick your ass, you hear me?" Clay said, but it was quiet, subdued, exhausted.

Aisha sat on the floor, staring at a drop of blood on the floor, listening to the beeping and allowing it to lull her, to soothe her.

"Let's get him to recovery," Diane said finally, her voice hushed. She sounded hesitant for the first time since Aisha had met her, as if she didn't want to break the stillness. "We'll keep him on the ventilator and we'll have to monitor him closely. But if there aren't any complications, he should be back up in a month or two."

"He will be okay?" Cougar repeated breathlessly.

"He should be. I'm not making any promises, but if he's half as tenacious as the rest of you- then yeah, he'll be fine."

Aisha bowed her head and cried for the first time in a long time.

xxxx

A/N: Thanks for the great reviews- sorry if Aisha seemed a bit out of character in this chapter, but I think that as she grows more attached to the guys, reacting to such an intense situation with a bit of emotion would be certainly possible, and maybe even probable.


	10. Chapter 10

Cougar bit his lip so hard he tasted blood as he watched Diane work on Jensen's hands. Everyone else had fallen asleep, exhausted by the day's dramatic events, but Cougar had stubbornly kept himself awake and insisted on being by Jensen's side while Diane tried to fix the damage Max had inflicted on the tech's hands.

Diane had taken x-rays of Jensen's right hand and then gone to work bandaging the ravaged, nail-less fingers on his left hand. Cougar had helped as much as he could, holding the fingers stained with dried blood out straight and forcing himself not to look away. Diane cleaned the injured digits as well as she could before wrapping a bandage around them.

"This next part might get a little uncomfortable," Diane said as she finished bandaging the last finger and turned to Jensen's right hand. "This hand is a bit worse off." An understatement if there ever was one.

"It's okay," Cougar said, nodding once at Diane. "I will stay."

Diane narrowed her eyes and inspected the quiet sniper closely.

"He probably can't even hear you," she said quietly. Cougar took a deep breath and looked at his best friend. Jensen was pale, a line of blood trailing from an IV bag above his head into his arm. An oxygen mask covered his face and there was a heart monitor behind his head that was beeping quietly, steadily. Bandages covered his shoulder and his abdomen, with small patches over the various burns he'd received and stitches closing the cuts scattered over his face.

"Maybe not," he said finally, looking up to meet Diane's gaze head on. "But I'm not leaving him alone."

"Okay," Diane said. "But don't think I don't know that you've been injured too. If you feel yourself getting light-headed, you get your ass to a bed, you hear me?" Cougar nodded.

Diane grasped Jensen's hand in hers and took hold of his first finger. She straightened it suddenly and with an audible crack, and Cougar swallowed down bile, gripping Jensen's shoulder in one hand and running the other uncertainly through his own hair.

"One down," Diane said, looking up at Cougar. "You okay?"

"Umm," said Cougar.

"Cougar?"

"I'm okay. I'm okay."

It sounded as if he was trying to reassure himself as much as Diane, taking deep gulping breaths.

"Alright, then I'm going to continue."

Diane continued.

Cougar held out.

For one more finger.

"I am sorry," he said, standing suddenly and feeling his head spin. "I- I have to-"

"Whoa, slow down there," Diane said, gripping his shoulder and helping him upright.

"'M gonna be sick," he whispered, and Diane wordlessly held out a basin. Pooch stumbled sleepily out of an adjoining room just as Cougar bent over the small tub, retching. Pooch sent a questioning look towards Diane.

"I'm setting Jensen's fingers," Diane said, "and Cougar…"

"Oh, Coug," Pooch said, quietly walking over to his friend. "You overdid it, brother. You should get some rest."

Cougar shook his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"No," he muttered, looking at the floor. "Jensen needs someone."

"I'll be here for him, okay? You go get some rest. You'll be no good to him passed out, and you got injured today too."

"Okay," Cougar said finally, allowing Pooch to help him get to his fee. Pooch led him into another room, settling him onto an exam bed. Cougar shifted slightly, the paper on the bed crinkling under his weight. Pooch handed him a water bottle and gave him a half-smile before walking out of the room.

xxxx

Clay woke up to find Aisha sitting in a chair and staring directly at him.

"Sitting watch?" Clay asked, and Aisha shrugged without looking away. She looked uncomfortable, an emotion Clay wasn't used to seeing in her.

"I guess," she said with another shrug.

"What's going on, Aisha?"

"Nothing."

"Aisha."

Aisha was incredibly stubborn.

Clay was also incredibly stubborn.

"I'm leaving, Clay."

"Leaving for where?"

"I'm not sure. Just, I need to be on my own. I was before, you know, I was alone, and that was going really well. And I don't think I'm as effective on my own, you know? I mean, Max is still out there and I haven't gotten to him."

Clay was silent for a minute, sitting with his chin in his hands and looking closely at Aisha.

"So you're running?" He said finally. Aisha shook her head.

"I'm not running. I've been thinking about this for awhile-"

"Bullshit."

Aisha looked up, startled by Clay's bluntness.

"What the hell do you mean?" She demanded, fury starting to rise to the surface.

"I mean that you're running."

"Clay, I don't know where the hell you get off, but-"

"You're scared, Aisha." He held up his hand when Aisha started interrupting him. "Let me finish. You've gotten to know this team. You've gotten to know these boys. You've started to think of Jensen as that irritating little brother you never had. You've started to feel like you have a family now, and you're scared of losing that."

"No," Aisha said, shaking her head again. "No, I'm not scared."

"Aisha, it's okay to be afraid. Hell, I was terrified today."

"You can be terrified. I can't."

"You can't run forever, Aisha. You're either going to get old and lonely, or you're going to die young and lonely. Yeah, Jensen almost died today. He didn't. But even if he had, he would have died knowing that we didn't abandon him, and that we care for him and support him."

"He'd still be dead," Aisha whispered, wiping at her face with frustration.

"We all die someday."

Silence permeated the room, though it wasn't uncomfortable. It was broken by a sudden laugh from Aisha.

"Usually it's the other way around," she said, still laughing. "Usually the man won't talk and the woman won't shut up. Emotions should be my strong point, not yours."

Clay smiled lopsidedly and Aisha was abruptly reminded that this man was charismatic and devastatingly handsome.

"Well, we've never been exactly traditional. In anything."

Aisha nodded, shifting in her seat.

"So. Diane."

"Diane," Clay repeated, smiling mischievously.

"Who the hell is she, and why the hell did you bring her here without talking to us first?"

"Aisha, I don't need to consult you on every decision I make. You do stuff without telling us all the time. Diane is a friend of mine from years ago-"

"A friend?"

"A _girlfriend_, and she was a trauma intern at the time. I called her because I will do whatever is in my capability to save the members of my team. You told me once that that was my weakness. Well, it is, and I will admit it, but I sure as hell won't change it. I look after my team, Aisha. Whatever it takes."

Aisha was quiet a moment.

"You'd do the same for me?" She asked it with her eyes pointed at the ground, hands fingering her shirt uncertainly.

"Hell yes."

Aisha looked up, finally, smiling.

"I might stick around a bit longer," she said.

xxxx

"So why did you agree to help him?" Pooch asked, watching as Diane casted Jensen's hand.

"Jensen or Clay?" Diane responded without looking up.

"Both."

"Jensen was easy. No matter what feelings I have or don't have for Clay, I'm not going to let someone die if I can help them. Clay- Clay and I may not have parted on the best terms, but I still respect him and what he does for our country. If he has a colleague who needs help, I'll give it."

"Sounds like you're just a good Samaritan, huh?"

Diane smiled. "I guess so." She looked up, seeing Pooch's smirk.

"And I might still have a bit of a crush on Clay."

"Thought so," Pooch said, grinning.

"Oh, I know that I don't have a shot with him, and I know that we were done years ago. I thought I was over him, but when I heard him again, and then saw him…Well, let's just say that he aged well."

"Well, whatever your motivations, thank you. For what you've done here. For him," Pooch said, gesturing towards the still unconscious hacker.

"It sure as hell wasn't a cakewalk, but I don't regret coming here to help you." Pooch smiled at her again.

"He's pretty stable, right?"

"Yeah. He should be out for a while yet."

"Then why don't you go get some rest? You look like you could use it."

Diane nodded and smiled gratefully.

"Thanks, Pooch. I'll do that."

Diane walked out of the room, yawning and stretching her arms above her head.

Pooch watched her go, then grinned and pulled a permanent marker out of his pocket, turning with a roguish smile towards Jensen's brand-spanking new cast.

xxxx

A/N: Sorry the wait was a bit longer for this chapter and it isn't super long…I got to go to a wedding last week, which was awesome, but also meant that I didn't have much time to write. Probably one chapter after this, so thank you for sticking with me and for the reviews!


	11. Chapter 11

Jensen woke abruptly. One second he was somewhere dark, unaware of his surroundings and the next, he was blinking up at a painfully bright light, the smell and sounds of medical crap assaulting his senses. He blinked a few times, trying to decide where, exactly, he was, and how he'd gotten there, and also why.

The why part came back pretty quickly.

"Holy hell," he gasped, eyes watering as the full pain of his injuries hit him in a rush. His shoulder hurt, his head hurt, his hands hurt, his stomach hurt like a bitch. He thought it might be quicker to list off places he didn't hurt.

"Jensen," a familiar voice said, the relief evident.

"Coug?" Jensen was surprised at how raspy his voice sounded, cleared his throat and winced when it hurt. "What the hell is going on?"

Cougar leaned back in his chair, hat tipped back on his head.

"You're in a clinic, one of Clay's old friends helped us out. You've been out for a day and a half… You uh, ran into Max," he answered simply.

Ah. Right. Max.

"You get him?" Jensen rasped. Cougar's face fell slightly.

"Not yet. Got the other two, though. The ones that…"

"Beat the shit out of me?" Jensen supplied, and Cougar nodded. "Good."

"How do you feel?"

Jensen thought about it a minute, shrugging with a slight wince.

"Achy, but it kinda feels far away. They must have me on the good stuff," he said finally.

"They do," Cougar said. "It's, uh, it is good to see you awake, Jensen. We weren't certain for a little while…"

_Shit. _He must have gotten hurt worse than he thought. Then again…Jensen flinched as flashes of memories assaulted him, a gunshot and being beaten and fingers snapping and water flooding his mouth and nose and eyes. So maybe it was pretty bad after all.

"Sorry," Jensen muttered. Cougar looked up, clearly angry.

"Don't apologize," he snapped. "That wasn't your fault. None of this was your fault. Hell, if I had had your back, you wouldn't be in that bed right now."

"Guess you're right," Jensen murmured sleepily, bringing a hand up to rub at his face. His hands widened.

"What the hell?" He gasped, his voice rising. "What the hell?"

"Jensen, it's okay, you're going to be fine-"

"Fine? This isn't fine! What the hell? I can't do anything without my hands, I don't- Aw, shit," Jensen yelled, his breaths coming in harsh gasps.

"Jensen, calm down, por favor, calm down," Cougar said frantically, calling over his shoulder for Diane and Clay even as he tried to placate the thrashing hacker.

"What's going on?" Clay demanded as he hurried into the room followed closely by the other members of his team.

"He saw his hands," Cougar replied. Pooch swore under his breath and Clay and Aisha helped Cougar hold Jensen down.

"He's burning up," Aisha said, the concern evident in her voice.

"I'm not surprised," Diane said, pressing a hand to Jensen's forehead and slipping an oxygen mask back over his nose and mouth. "Damn it, I was hoping the antibiotics would have had more effect than this."

"What does that mean?" Clay asked, looking up in concern. Jensen was finally starting to calm down, his unfocused eyes drifting shut.

"It means we start him on some more medication and hope that one works. Clay, if he doesn't show some marked improvement soon, you should consider transferring him to a hospital. He needs to be in an ICU and I don't have the time or the resources to provide him that type of care."

"Shit," Clay said. He rubbed a hand through his hair, shooting a glance at Cougar. The sniper was perched awkwardly on the bed, one hand resting on Jensen's knee, the other running absently through the tech's hair.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," he said quietly. There was a moment of heavy silence before Aisha cocked her head to one side, a smile starting to spread over her face.

"What the hell happened to Jensen's cast?"

xxxx

Jensen's fever stopped rising overnight but stubbornly refused to drop. Cougar's desperation was increasing and Aisha was growing increasingly restless. Pooch had gone home to be with Jolene and the baby. Diane continued to work around the clinic, directing the other nurses and doctors away from Jensen's room and the small waiting room just adjacent to it, coming around often to check on Jensen. Clay wasn't sure what she had said to the other doctors at the clinic, but whatever it was had been effective, and Clay and his team was able to sit in the waiting room alone, and unbothered.

It was good, he supposed, that they could think without being disturbed, but they also spent a lot of time doing nothing, with nothing to distract them from Jensen's unstable condition.

It was Cougar who provided the answer, pulling a deck of cards out from somewhere, shuffling them and holding one up to his head with a small grin. Clay grinned in response and put one to his own forehead. Aisha looked at them quizzically for a minute before smiling slightly and putting up a card of her own.

They'd been playing game after game until they'd lost count, when Pooch showed back up, a vase full of flowers in one hand. Clay had raised an eyebrow.

"Jolene," Pooch had said by way of explanation, then smiled when he saw what they were doing. "Cool! I'm in."

"You cheat," Clay protested, and Pooch snorted as he sat down, setting the vase of flowers in the center of the table they were gathered around.

"How can you cheat at Blindman's Bluff?" He asked, popping his knuckles and grabbing a card.

xxxx

Four hours and countless card games later, Diane stepped into the room, grinning.

"His fever's broken," she said. "Jensen's got a ways to go, and he's definitely going to need physical therapy on his shoulder and probably on his hand, but I think he's going to pull through."

The room cleared out in record time, leaving Diane alone in a room with a vase full of flowers and a scattered deck of cards.

xxxx

"Jensen?" Aisha said as they walked into his room. Jensen looked up, his eyes clear though he was clearly tired.

"Hey guys," he croaked, managing a wan smile at them.

"How are you feeling?" Clay asked.

"Better. Tired, but better," Jensen replied, then frowned as he looked at the cast on his right arm. "Really? Petunias? Was that you, Pooch? They're all over the damn thing! As soon as I get out of this bed, someone had better run because I am gonna kick the ass of whoever is responsible for this…"

Cougar tipped his head back and let out a laugh.

Finally, things were back to normal, and it felt damn good.

xxxx

A/N: So it's done! Thanks for all of the awesome reviews and for sticking with me for so long. There might be a sequel at some point, and I've got some ideas for other Losers stories…I'm excited to be part of such a promising fandom, and thanks to all of the readers and fellow authors who are helping it grow!


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